Saturday, February 11, 2006

Seeing Into the Future (and a poem by James Wright)

So, below is the latest from NOAA, the outfit that Rick Santorum wants to privatize so his buddies can make money off it. Should I not post Sunday, usually a big bloggy day, this will be why. That "dangerous and life-threatening conditions" thing always attracts my attention; I recall that wording prior to Katrina and to last year's blizzard, which left us snowed-in and frozen for several days until we found a front-loader to dig us out. If it occurs, it will also be puppy's first blizzard--can we really keep her in all day? They say not to go outdoors when the white-out occurs lest one become disoriented (we're a bit disoriented anyhow in general, are we not?), but maybe we'll tie a rope to the front door or something. Trail of crumbs? And if the electricity stays on we'll be blogging and watching cricket of all things happening far far away somewhere where it's summer.

THE NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE HAS ISSUED A BLIZZARD WARNING WHICH IS IN EFFECT FROM 1 AM TO 7 PM EST SUNDAY.

BLIZZARD CONDITIONS ARE POSSIBLE WITH SNOWFALL RATES NEAR 3 INCHES PER HOUR. NORTHEAST WINDS GUSTING AS HIGH AS 60 MPH MAY PRODUCE WHITE OUT CONDITIONS WITH NEAR ZERO VISIBILITY. SNOW TOTALS OF 2 FEET ARE POSSIBLE

THIS IS A DANGEROUS AND LIFE THREATENING SITUATION. TRAVEL DURING THE HEIGHT OF THE STORM ON SUNDAY WILL BE SERIOUSLY IMPACTED BY THE COMBINATION OF STRONG WINDS POOR VISIBILITY AND SNOW COVERED ROADS.

A BLIZZARD WARNING IS ISSUED WHEN SUSTAINED WINDS OR FREQUENT GUSTS OVER 35 MPH ARE EXPECTED WITH CONSIDERABLE FALLING AND/OR BLOWING AND DRIFTING SNOW. VISIBILITIES WILL BECOME POOR WITH WHITEOUT CONDITIONS AT TIMES. THOSE VENTURING OUTDOORS MAY BECOME LOST OR DISORIENTED...SO PERSONS IN THE WARNING AREA ARE ADVISED TO STAYINDOORS.

A Winter Daybreak Above Venice

The night's driftsPile up below me and behind my back,Slide down the hill, rise again, and buildEerie little dunes on the roof of the house.In the valley below me,Miles between me and the town of St.-Jeannet,The road lamps glow.They are so cold, they might as well be dark.Trucks and carsCough and drone down there between the goldenCoffins of greenhouses, the startled squawkOf a rooster claws heavily acrossA grove, and drowns.The gumming snarl of some grouchy dog sounds,And a man bitterly shifts his broken gears.True night still hangs on,Mist cluttered with a racket of its own.

Now on the mountainside,A little way downhill among turning rucks,A square takes form in the side of a dim wall.I hear a bucket rattle or something, tinny,No other stirring behind the dim faceOf the goatherd's house. I imagineHis goats are still sleeping, dreamingOf the fresh rosesBeyond the walls of the greenhouse below them.And of lettuce leaves opening in Tunisia.

I turn, and somehowImpossibly hovering in the air over everything,The Mediterranean, nearer to the moonThan this mountain is, Shines. A voice clearlyTells me to snap out of it. GalwayMutters out of the house and up the stone stairsTo start the motor. The moon and the starsSuddenly flicker out, and the whole mountainAppears, pale as a shell.

Look, the sea has not fallen and brokenOur heads. How can I feel so warmHere in the dead center of January? I canScarcely believe it, and yet I have to, this isThe only life I have. I get up from the stone.My body mumbles something unseemlyAnd follows me. Now we are all sitting here strangelyOn top of sunlight.

2L4O

Cautionary Tale

This is the actual blog of an actual Buddhist. As such, it does not support harming sentient beings, while it does support generating inconceivable compassion toward all sentient beings without exception including Dick Cheney.

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N.B.

This blog frequently and deliberately uses vile sexist language in order more clearly to demonstrate its ubiquity and unacceptability, so don't get your panties in a twist about it, sweeties. ;) [